


So Much for No In-House Relationships

by alixinsanity



Series: The Not So Secret In-House Relationship [3]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Developing Relationship, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6216514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alixinsanity/pseuds/alixinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if when Lindsay came knocking in the middle of the night asking for her old job back, there was somebody else in the house with Hank Voight. </p><p>Set at the end of the Disco Bob Episode in Season 2.</p><p>Now also available in German- link in notes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Much for No In-House Relationships

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been translated into German which is available here, much appreciation for 'Jamie Moriarty' for this :)- http://www.fanfiktion.de/s/56f0600900027f8a2f45e41f/1/The-Not-So-Secret-In-House-Relationship-Ubersetzung

Antonio groaned in annoyance, muttering muffled Spanish into his pillow as he pulled the cover up over his head in a half-conscious attempt to stop the noise that was echoing throughout the house. The noise increased from the soft echo of tapping to loud banging that was coming from the front door. Years of police work, and subsequently years of slight paranoia made Antonio jolt fully awake. His eyes opened wide, trying to take everything in the dark bedroom in; the noise from downstairs still continued, growing louder and the knocking becoming more and more impatient. Beside him, he felt the bed dip. Pushing himself upwards, Antonio resisted the urge to turn on the light that was on the bedside cabinet; even though the curtains were closed he didn't know how much light would show through the fabric and he didn't want to begin wondering who might be looking up at the house. The soft scrape of metal against the wooden floor was barely audible with the persistent knocking that continued to resonate from downstairs. 

"Wait here," the gruff voice of Hank Voight momentarily filled the room. With his eyes now slightly more adjusted to the lack of light, Antonio was able to make out the unmistakable shape of a shotgun in the other man's hands. Antonio barely opened his mouth, poised ready to argue back when he felt Voight's hand gently pushing back on his chest, directly over the most recent bullet scar. "Wait here," Voight reiterated, offering a short smile before slowly walking out of the room, the cautiousness of the man showing as he took a step out into the hallway. 

"To hell with that," Antonio muttered to himself after waiting upstairs after the banging had stopped, resulting in a couple of minutes of silence. Climbing out of bed, he mentally thanked the heavens that he was wearing a pair of old sweatpants; nothing like encountering someone breaking into your house when you have no clothes on. Admittedly, in the circumstances which this had happened before, he was the one breaking down the door. Maybe it was someone Voight had pissed off, there was probably a long list. Grabbing his handgun off of the dresser, Antonio slowly creeped out into the hallway. 

*** 

The knocking continued periodically as Hank walked down the stairs, his shotgun resting at his hip. On the bottom step he hesitated, sparing a look over at his front door just as the knocking fell silent. This had happened to him several times over the years, when some cocky gang member thought they'd be able to do one over against him. Hank knew the amount of people he'd pissed off in his career, and he knew that most of them would take the chance to kill him if it was offered. Cocking the shotgun, Hank raised it at the ready as he took silent steps across his kitchen. Letting the gun drop back to his side, he carefully inched the last few feet towards the door, the banging continuing at a consistent rate. Making sure to keep his body as far away from the door as possible, he tightened his grip on the shotgun as he slowly reached across to flip the lock. Ready to raise the gun at any moment, he let his grip fall off of the lock, reaching for the handle, ready to see whoever was trying to get his attention in the middle of the night. 

"Hank, put the gun down, it's me." Lindsay's voice spoke through the door, causing Hank to deeply exhale, letting out the breath he hadn't realized he'd held. Gritting his teeth, his jaw clenched as he opened the door without the need for caution. The sight of his foster daughter standing on the front door step instantly reminded him of encounters years before, back when she was one of his C.I.'s and reminded him of countless more times when both her or Justin would go hang out with friends, only to wake the house up when they returned home. 

"Lose your key?" Voight asked with a pinch of sarcasm, the same question he'd asked every single time when Lindsay or Justin were younger and still living at home. 

"It's been a rough day, I didn't want to get shot too." Lindsay remarked in a rigid tone with the same hint of sarcasm that Hank had used, as she sent a pointed look towards the gun that was still resting against Hank's hip. "Is it too late to get my spot back in Intelligence. This task force, it's all politics, and a number's game, and the way that they just chew people up and spit them back into the system. This isn't me, this hasn't ever been me. I became a cop to try and bring a little justice to this city. To my streets, the way you taught me-" 

"Welcome back," Hank simply stated, effectively cutting off whatever remained of the monologue. He couldn't fight to hide the smile as the anxiety dropped from Lindsay's face. Hell even if Burgess had taken the job offer, Hank would have done everything he could to make it so that he could have Lindsay back as well. 

"I'm all yours." 

Voight watched the smile grow on Lindsay's face, the happiness quickly destroying any of the worry that had been there only a moment before. "Right come on," he took a step back, allowing Lindsay to walk through the front door. Wrapping his foster daughter into a hug, he tightened the hold slightly at the whispered 'Thank You' he received.  
"You kidding. You seen the faces I gotta look at every morning," Voight joked, earning a small laugh in response, "Come on, your old beds got clean sheets on. I'll even make you breakfast in the morning." 

"Yh, that sounds good." Lindsay smiled, taking a step around the older man, "Promise me that there will be no guns at the breakfast table," she joked sending another pointed look at the gun that was still in his hand. 

 

Hank grunted in response, retorting to himself about not needing gun's if his kids actually bothered to use a house key as he closed and locked the front door behind them. Lindsay couldn't help but smile as she listened to his words trailing off as she walked towards the stairs, with the worry about asking for her old job back now gone, the urge to just relax and go to sleep was calling to her. She was barely half way up the stairs when a figure stepped out from one of the bedrooms and into the landing, her hand instantly fell to her hip where her gun sat. The darkness that still filled the house stopped her from seeing anything more than shapes; fear grabbed at her insides as she caught sight of something in the figures hands. Pulling her weapon she aimed it at the figure just as they aimed towards her. "Drop your weapon!" Lindsay shouted, jumping up the last few stairs. 

"Lindsay?" 

"Antonio?" 

Lindsay lowered her weapon slightly, her fist slamming against the wall where she knew the light switch for the upstairs hallway was. The light burned at her eyes for a moment, before they adjusted to the sudden brightness. Blinking away the difference in darkness, Lindsay felt embarrassment fill her cheeks. Stood in the hallway, directly outside the door to her foster father's bedroom was Antonio in nothing but a pair of Voight's old sweatpants, with a gun in his hands, bed-mussed hair and a very obvious love bite on his shoulder. In retrospect, she was sure that Antonio was in an equal state of embarrassment and shock. Hundred of questions raised through her head that she wanted to know the answers to. How long has this been going on? When did it start? Does anyone know? 

"What the hell is all the shouting about?" Hank asked, running up the stairs, before pausing as he found himself caught in the situation.Glancing between the two of them, and before any questions could fall from Lindsay's lips, he commented, "We'll talk about this in the morning." Without waiting for a response, or any form of confirmation to his request, he walked around where Lindsay stood, her gun still half raised towards Antonio. 

Lindsay watched as Voight walked into his bedroom, as Antonio followed after him with a muttered, "I'm just gonna..." Watching the door close behind them both, leaving her standing in the hallway staring after them, Lindsay shook her head slightly as something flashed through her mind; So much for no in-house relationships.

**Author's Note:**

> Who else ships these two? Seriously I honestly feel like I am one of the only people who do. What do you think of Voight/Antonio. What do you think of the story? Should I continue?
> 
> Clearly I don't own the rights to the show, did borrow some dialogue though.


End file.
